Chronicles of the Secret Service (19 page)

BOOK: Chronicles of the Secret Service
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A slight smile crossed the face of The Master, as he held up a powerful, shapely hand in protest.

‘I do not claim,’ he objected, ‘neither do I permit a designation so exalted to be applied to me. I am but a man, no greater than these among whom and for whom I work. You have come to meet me. You are not prompted by idle curiosity, but by real interest and, for that, I am glad. Will you recline here for a little while with me, and tell me of your great country?’

Kershaw thanked him, but declared he wished rather to learn all about the great work on which his host was engaged.

‘I have been told so much,’ he added, ‘that has kindled my admiration. If I can hear from your lips something of your ideals, it will give me much happiness. It will also enable me, from my own knowledge, to dispute the false and lying rumours that have been circulated by your enemies.’

There was a hearty murmur of approval at this from the hearers. Suspicion of Kershaw was rapidly evaporating. When he and Aziz Ullah sank amicably side by side to the rug spread on the ground, the latter’s twenty disciples turned contentedly away, while the others in the vicinity, who had been watching and listening, once again occupied themselves with their own affairs.

‘Was this wise, think you?’ asked Aziz Ullah softly.

‘It was necessary,’ was the reply spoken as quietly. ‘I should not have taken the risk had it not been that I learnt of that which is to take place on the morrow. Surely you do not trust these officials?’

‘No; I do not trust them.’ He smiled. ‘But there is a chance that their purpose is honest, and while that chance exists I must not hesitate. These people, and others like them, have placed great reliance in me. I feel it my duty not to betray their trust.
He – you know whom I mean?’ Kershaw nodded. ‘He would not have me do otherwise.’

‘But what if there is an assassin or assassins in waiting to murder you?’

Aziz Ullah shrugged his shoulders slightly.

‘I am in the hands of Allah,’ he remarked with a smile.

Kershaw smiled also, and there was an expression of affection on his face.

‘You are a brave man,’ he murmured.

‘That is woman’s talk,’ returned the other in a tone of disgust. ‘Listen! I will not only be salving my conscience to a great extent by doing all I can to get consideration shown to these poor people, but I believe firmly that this meeting and the consequent recognition shown to me – that is, presuming treachery is not intended – will force Abdul Qadir Khan to become more insistent than ever. That is the chief reason why I think you have been unwise to come here. He will have been informed of the action of government and my acceptance. It is in my mind that he himself may come to Kabul. Is it not likely, my friend, that his agents are even among this multitude? They will report to him concerning your having speech with me. Will that not rouse the Khan’s suspicions, and perhaps undo all our plans?’

Kershaw was looking distinctly uneasy by this time. He quickly forced the momentary expression of alarm from his face, however, and smiled lest anyone should notice and wonder what it was perturbed him.

‘You are right,’ he admitted. ‘I have been thoughtless. I was alarmed for you, though. You see, I have brought something
with me from Peshawar which will act as a safeguard against murderous attacks and, when I heard of your appointment for tomorrow, I wanted you to have it at once.’

Aziz Ullah looked questioningly at him.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘A jacket of mail to wear close to your skin. It is light and of the finest mesh. I guarantee it will resist bullets or daggers.’

‘That was thoughtful of you. Where is it?’

‘I have it under my coat. Presently, when I am certain I am unobserved, I will slip the parcel down and push it under the rug.’

‘Thank you. Now I think you had better go. The time is nearly ripe for our scheme against Abdul Qadir. I will be back in the retreat in two days from now. At this hour I will meet you in the cave of the witch and we can make our final plans. Be cautious on entering Kabul. Abdul Qadir may be there, and he also may know who you are. You are not of a type regarded without interest in these parts, my friend. Your hair, your eyebrows, and your moustache are of a colour too distinct to pass unnoticed.’

‘That is a sore point with me,’ confessed Kershaw. ‘My work would be a great deal easier were I dark. But it is of no use railing against Fate. On the rare occasions I disguise myself I am all the time worried lest the colour shines through the dye. Roots of red hair refuse to be suppressed … The parcel is well under the rug. For the love of Allah use it. You promise?’

‘I promise. It would be ungracious as well as ungrateful of me not to wear it. Besides, I have no wish to die – yet. You have relieved my mind greatly.’

‘Good.’ Kershaw rose to his feet. ‘I am obliged,’ he observed in a louder voice, ‘for the exposition you have given me of your ideals. As an Englishman, I am in entire sympathy, and wish you success in all your endeavours.’

Aziz Ullah had also risen. He bowed courteously.

‘It is indeed a pleasure to hear such words from your lips,’ he acknowledged. ‘I am happy to have had the opportunity of explaining to one whose understanding is so great. Go, and the peace of Allah be with you.’

He summoned Yusuf, bade him escort the Englishman from the camp. The two conspirators bowed to each other with solemn politeness, after which Kershaw followed his giant guide back to Mahommed Rashid and his pony. This time he observed no suspicious or hostile looks on the contrary, men eyed him approvingly, many called out
salaam
to him. His initial words on meeting The Master as well as a report of the latter’s friendly reception of him had been circulated. He of the hair that is red left an excellent impression behind him.

News of the vast concourse of men that had accompanied Aziz Ullah to Kabul had, of course, reached the high officers of government. Directly after the hour of prayer on the following morning, the self-constituted sentries observed issue from the city a troop of military horsemen. News was at once conveyed to Aziz Ullah who, despite objections, went to meet them. He was not permitted to go alone, however; well over a hundred fierce-eyed peasants insisted on keeping in close touch, for fear harm was intended to his person. A gleam of approval showed fleetingly in The Master’s eyes as he gazed at the smart habiliments and equipment of the cavalrymen. At a command, the troopers halted, their captain riding forward alone to meet Aziz Ullah. He was a handsome young man, whose modern and very serviceable uniform suited him to perfection. There was a
look of undisguised contempt on his face as he looked at the wild, ragged crowd forming a semicircle round their leader, but obviously he was impressed by the latter’s appearance, for his eyes showed unmistakable admiration as they met. Saluting smartly, as Aziz Ullah bowed, he announced that he had been sent to inquire into the reason for the display of force.

‘Do you come in peace?’ he demanded.

‘I come in peace,’ replied the other simply.

‘Then why are these with you?’

Aziz Ullah smiled.

‘They come of their own will. It is they I represent, for whom I work. Is it not natural that they should wish to be on hand at the time when matters so gravely affecting them are discussed?’

The officer eyed him narrowly.

‘Is there no other reason for their presence?’ he asked doubtfully.

‘Not in my knowledge. They are not with me by my command.’

‘It is well, though I like not their warlike appearance. I am ordered to escort you into Kabul, but these men cannot be admitted. The police could not cope with such a rabble and riots might result. You will understand the difficulty.’

Aziz Ullah understood well enough that the authorities feared the consequences, should harm overtake him, with ten thousand devoted but fierce followers loose inside the city walls. It also proved to him that they were either planning treachery or were not certain that the safe conduct promised him could be respected. He gave no indiction of his thoughts, however, merely pointing out that the men who had elected to follow him had as much right in Kabul as anyone else. He also delivered a friendly homily on the impropriety of the officer’s contemptuous use of the word ‘rabble’.

‘It is only because they have been downtrodden and denied the privileges of decent citizenship,’ he pointed out, ‘that you dare designate them by such a term. Are not we all true believers? Does it matter whether we are of peasant or gentle birth? All are alike in the eyes of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful. “Those who strive hard for Us, We will most certainly guide them in Our Ways. Allah is most surely with the doers of good.”’

This quotation from the Koran was received with bowed heads and murmured responses from all who heard it. The officer appeared somewhat ashamed of himself. He muttered a half-hearted apology. The news spread quickly throughout the camp that The Master was expected to enter Kabul alone, whereupon there was a great outcry. For a time matters looked ugly. Scores of angry men surged threateningly round the officer, with no other thought in their minds but that evil was intended to their leader. The second-in-command of the troop of cavalry became alarmed; ordered his men to advance with drawn swords. Such an action was calculated more to precipitate a riot than to protect the captain. Aziz Ullah quickly recognised the danger.

‘Halt those soldiers,’ he snapped peremptorily to the other. ‘I cannot be answerable for the consequences should they continue to approach in such a manner.’

Fortunately the officer was a man of common sense. He swung his horse round; galloped back to his men with hand upraised; ordered them to halt, and sheathe their swords. It could be seen that he was speaking angrily to his subordinate. Presently he came trotting back. In the meantime, Aziz Ullah was loudly haranguing his followers or rather those in his vicinity. He pointed out that there was a good deal to be said for the reluctance of the authorities
to permit the entrance of so vast a multitude into the city, as congestion might be caused and traffic arrangements dislocated. Had it been expected, preparations could have been made to cope with it, but there was no time for that now. He also declared that any display of aggression would only prove a serious obstacle in the way of obtaining that in which his hopes were centred. Finally he adjured the men to remain patiently where they were, and await with confidence his return. He would enter the city with his twenty immediate followers and no others. The captain of cavalry arrived back some time before he concluded his exhortation; sat his horse listening with approval. He saw no objection to Aziz Ullah being accompanied by a mere score of men. There were many in The Master’s party however, who shook their heads dubiously, and muttered to each other. They put no trust in promises of safe conduct; remembered only the efforts that had been made to discredit and apprehend the man most of them regarded as a new prophet. However, Aziz Ullah had his way. He set off at the head of the twenty, the captain of the cavalry riding by his side.

When the troop was reached, half of it wheeled and went ahead; the other half fell in behind. Thus they proceeded towards the city. Aziz Ullah could not help reflecting somewhat grimly that the arrangement gave the appearance more of a guard conducting a prisoner than of an honoured person being escorted. This feeling was intensified by the fact that no courtesies had been extended to him. At least, a horse might have been provided, in order that he could have ridden with the captain on terms of equality. Not a word was exchanged between the two as they went along, and it seemed to the men walking by his side that the officer was a trifle uneasy.

On entering Kabul, Aziz Ullah was not surprised to find the streets lined by jostling crowds anxious to catch a glimpse of him. Occasionally cheers were raised but, on the whole, the people regarded him with silent curiosity. His campaign on behalf of the downtrodden peasants of the countryside made no particular appeal to the inhabitants of Kabul. He walked along watchfully, feeling that, at any moment, an attack might be launched by a body of assassins engaged for the purpose. It will be gathered that he had scarcely more faith in the promised safe conduct than had his followers. Once he glanced behind him, to notice Yusuf and the other men glowering suspiciously from side to side. Their attitude was comforting. At least, were an attack to come, they would not be caught unprepared.

Aziz Ullah also obtained a measure of consolation when, passing the British Legation, he caught sight of the Union Jack above, floating lazily in the breeze. There was something about that not very attractive flag that caused the thought of stabs in the back or other treacherous actions to appear ridiculous and imaginative. Among a group of people standing at the gate, he observed a slight man with freckled complexion and red hair. The ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he passed on.

The small procession reached the very imposing modern government buildings, but instead of being escorted inside, Aziz Ullah was led into the well-kept grounds. Here a
shamiana
had been erected. Apparently the government had ordained that the meeting should be held in the open. Aziz Ullah wondered why. Although early, it was already very hot. Kabul is close on seven thousand feet above sea level; nevertheless, the heat can be intense there, and that particular June morning gave promise of a high
temperature before many hours had passed. It would have been cooler and altogether more comfortable inside a building than in the close confines of a marquee. Possibly the government expected the meeting to be of short duration or else considered Aziz Ullah, whom it had outlawed, to be unworthy of such entrance into halls devoted to legislation. There were few people in the grounds and not a sign of a police officer which, he thought, was strange.

He was kept waiting in the open for nearly an hour before an usher arrived to escort him into the
shamiana
. At once the escort of cavalry trotted away. Yusuf and his men were about to follow into the tent but were ordered to remain outside. They obeyed reluctantly, and only when their leader had signified his wish that they should do so. Inside, on a rostrum, was a long table, behind which were fifteen chairs, the one in the centre being a large, ornate affair above which hung a shield bearing the arms of Afghanistan. A solitary stool was placed on the nearer side of the table alone. This Aziz Ullah concluded was for him, and his brows met in a little frown at the thought that even the courtesy of a chair was denied him. Below the platform, squatted half a dozen clerks, who gazed at him with deep curiosity as he appeared, but did not rise to their feet.

Again there was a period of waiting. At last, however, the curtains at the entrance were thrown back with a flourish. The fifteen members of the commission, headed by the Minister of the Interior, walked solemnly to the rostrum. All, except two, affected the sober morning attire fashionable in Europe. The couple dressed in picturesque native garb were obviously mullahs. None of them took any notice of Aziz Ullah, until they were seated, and the usher had led him to his stool. Then all eyes were focused on him and, in most,
he read antagonism. The Minister of the Interior, a black-bearded, sharp-featured man, sitting below the national coat of arms, spent several moments staring at him as though endeavouring to probe into his very soul. Aziz underwent the scrutiny without discomfort; in fact, he appeared to be entirely at ease, and forced the minister, by his own return gaze, presently to drop his eyes to the papers on the table before him.

Lack of space does not permit me to report in detail the proceedings of that historic meeting. It is necessary to be brief as, although vastly interesting, the discussion and arguments are not actually of importance to this narrative.

Aziz Ullah was at first subjected to a veritable inquisition concerning his origin and family. He replied simply and with assurance, stating that he was born at Herat, moving to the holy city of Mesched in Persia with his family at an early age. There he had sat at the feet of learned doctors of divinity and inculcated the principles which had eventually led to his returning to Afghanistan, in the hope of being able to do something to improve the lot of the suffering thousands in that country. The announcement that he had studied in the city of Imam Riza, which is visited annually by thousands of Muslim pilgrims, made an impression on his hearers. They proved their antagonism, however, in demanding by what right he constituted himself the champion of the people of Afghanistan, stating that everything possible was being accomplished for their welfare. The Minister of the Interior pointed out that improvements are expensive, that the process must necessarily be gradual, and that the government was alive to requirements without the ill-considered intervention
of a fanatic whose methods were calculated to cause unrest.

In reply, Aziz Ullah used quotations from the Koran in support of his right to make himself champion of the people. He managed this so adroitly that he silenced many arguments against him. He also reminded the commission that a promise had been publicly made that sympathetic consideration would be given to any proposals he put forward for the welfare of the lowly, and stated vehemently that he had not come there to be pilloried, neither was he on trial. His firmness of tone and apparent sincerity had their influence. The members of the commission spoke together for some time, then he was bidden deliver himself of the suggestions he had in mind. He, at once, plunged into a well-prepared oration, in which housing, employment, wages, education, child and maternity welfare, as well as a host of other important matters, had their part. Not only did he point out the necessity of all these, but he also showed how improvements could be accomplished by the government with the greatest thoroughness and least expense; proved how the outcome of capital expended would be interest gained, the building of a finer, healthier, more peaceful, more united people and a sure road opened to national progress and contentment.

During his discourse he took care to ascertain that every word he said was being taken down by the clerks. He had no intention of finding afterwards that no record had been made and that all had been wasted. He spoke at great length eagerly, clearly, and with the keenness of a zealot. His enthusiasm and power of oratory carried most of his hearers with him; even those who had feared his rising influence, lest their well-feathered nests be affected, now saw little in the plans suggested whereby their
greed might be checked. On the contrary, they wondered if they were not opening up other paths by which they could eventually enrich themselves. Nevertheless, they resented still the coming of this unauthorised reformer. An attempt was made by some to cast doubt and discredit on his altruism, but it was half-hearted, and was quickly and smartly combated by the astute Aziz. He saw at once that it had been the intention to prove him an impostor, a man working for his own ends, and thus to confound him utterly in the eyes of all. But his clear enunciation of proposals and the manner in which they could be carried out, in which not an atom of self-interest could possibly be involved, defeated them entirely. Aziz Ullah won a great victory.

During the discussion that followed, he became aware that many of the members wore uneasy expressions as though they were anticipating something they wished now they could avoid. This caused Aziz to think deeply. When, from outside, rose an angry murmur that presently increased to a roar, in which he caught such expletives as ‘betrayer’, ‘unholy one’, ‘false prophet’, and others of a like nature, his mind became suddenly illumined. He gritted his teeth with anger. The reason for the
shamiana
was now manifest. He was marked as the victim of a vile plot. It was not difficult to understand the whole treacherous scheme. While the government commission granted him an apparently sympathetic hearing, arrangements had been made for an attack by hooligans which would end in his destruction and, at the same time, be made to appear entirely beyond the control of the authorities. Everything would have been engineered in such a manner that suspicion could not fall on them as the perpetrators. The members of the commission
would doubtless act in a way to prove afterwards they had done all in their power to save him. But Aziz Ullah was not a fool. Such an attack by a rabble would have been impossible inside the government buildings, thus the
shamiana
; the absence of police in the grounds had puzzled him; the departure of the troop of cavalry, after the usher had taken charge of him, had been significant. He knew now he stood practically alone. Yusuf and the other nineteen men being his only protection against, perhaps, a couple of hundred or more savage ruffians.

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